Parenthood
by Dixie Dewdrop's Graceland
Summary: As children, Paige, Dale, Mike, and Johnny are reared with humor, discipline, and unconditional love. Still, FBI agents Paul and Charlie discover their roles of daddy and mommy encompass the most challenging assignments they have ever undertaken.
1. The Dawning

The Dawning

Climbing tiredly up the stairs FBI agent Paul Briggs admitted to himself that nothing appealed to him more than falling into bed. He could barely wait. The day had taxed him physically and mentally and then it had run right into overtime.

Truthfully he had survived ten hours of on-the-job-brutal.

Yes indeed, he was tired.

As his hand grabbed the top newel post Mike Warren popped into view from the floor below him. "Briggs, wait! I need you to check over this report for me and sign off on it."

Paul paused but would not glance down. "Tomorrow, Mike. I'll check it tomorrow."

Mike's tone changed to one of concern. "What if you forget? I need it to file it at the agency by noon."

"You should have gotten me earlier if you wanted it tonight." Paul responded calmly. He tried to deliver the words without an implied reprimand.

Mike's tone switched to one of pleading but Briggs had already left the conversation behind. "I'm going to bed but I will take care of it in the morning."

Every muscle screamed to rest and he grabbed the knob to his bedroom with sheer relief before pausing to debate his next move. Despite his exhaustion he backtracked towards the bathroom. Washing the crime of the day away would make his sleep even better.

Paige waylaid him as he pulled a clean bath towel from the linen closet. "Paul, please come look at this wire for me. I want to take it tomorrow to my drug bust and it suddenly doesn't transmit when I tested it."

Briggs fingered the soft towel and shook his head. "Not tonight. I'll fix it tomorrow before you go, though."

Paige frowned, "But you always…."

"No, Paige," he repeated firmly. "Tomorrow. I'm going to shower now." Moving deliberately he turned his back to her and ignored her subsequent pleas.

By the time jets of steaming water pounded into his aching muscles he had forgotten she or Mike had even delayed him.

Johnny's face appeared within the steam just as Paul reached up and closed the tap. Burying his face into the towel as the final drips splashed the tile he muttered, "What, Johnny?"

"Yo Briggs," Johnny leaned against the counter and spoke excitedly. "I've got a favor to ask you, man."

Briggs rubbed the towel roughly over his hair and shook his head from side to side. "No."

"You don't even know what I want!" Johnny defended himself, shocked at how Paul's unreasonable reply had surfaced so quickly.

Unrepentant, Paul wrapped the towel around his waist and strode purposefully towards the door, clearly not concerned about gathering details of Johnny's favor.

Johnny hurried to catch up with him. "Just one favor, that's all! One, Paul, and just this time."

Paul opened the door and strode purposefully to his room.

Unwilling to give up, Johnny jogged into the hall. "Please Paul, let me trade off with Mikey tonight. Just this one and only time let me switch. I met a hot girl this afternoon and she promised me we could hook up at the tiki bar tonight."

The moment he edged into the room Paul turned to regard the younger man with a stern expression. "No, Johnny. My answer is no. That rule about not switching assignments is the rule about not switching assignments. Call your girl and reschedule. You may not switch with Warren."

Johnny threw his hand dramatically against his forehead. "Whatcha got to be so mean for?"

"Because I am," Paul reasoned irritably. "This discussion just closed." Paul turned to shut the door but paused to regard Johnny once more to warn, "I mean it, JohnBoy."

Johnny scowled and blew out a breath, "Ok, I hear you. You don't have to keep repeating yourself."

Once the door closed with a final snap Paul regarded the bed with something close to adoration before launching himself face first into the pillows. He lay there nearly a minute before inching up and pulling the bedding out from under himself, along with the damp towel. He wadded the towel into a makeshift ball and threw it towards the windows.

Charlie's voice outside the door cued him that she would enter shortly. Paul smiled and turned on his side to speak to her. He did love that girl!

She headed straight for him when she entered and kissed him softly on the lips. "Go to sleep," she ordered quietly, "but Dale sent a message that he probably won't be in tonight."

Paul pulled himself up against the pillows. "What did he give for the reason this time?"

"He didn't," Charlie leaned down to brush a hand over his still damp hair. "He did say he'd run it by you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is the after-the-fact," Paul massaged his temples. "The fact that he sent the message through you makes me suspicious. He did that deliberately. I don't know what he's got up his sleeve but it worries me."

Charlie snapped off the lamp. "Let it go tonight. You can hold him accountable tomorrow."

Paul held up the edge of the bedding so that she could slide under, then waited until she settled against him before he closed his eyes and began to concentrate on relaxation. "Does it ever feel to you that we are the parents of four kids we're trying to keep on the straight and narrow? And I mean sneaky and hardheaded kids, but also kinda cute kids we've nurtured from toddlerhood to teens."

"All the time," Charlie whispered in agreement.

Paul smoothed the pillow. "Maybe I can dream they don't actually belong to us."

 **A tiny voice invaded his sleep and Paul turned to the other side of the bed to block the sound. Whispered protests followed and a second voice joined the first.**

"Move and let me jump really high. That'll wake him, Paige," a voice clearly Johnny's permeated Paul's consciousness.

Paige hurried to the opposite side of the bed and pulled at Paul's eyelid with interest. "You in there, Daddy?"

Paul groaned and accepted his fate. The children had tag teamed against him and had no intention of allowing him to sleep longer. He opened his eyes and attempted to focus on the kids as he awkwardly pulled himself to a reclining position against the pillows. He reached out to yank Johnny to him as the little boy stood upright on the mattress. "Good morning JT, and don't jump on the bed."

Paige climbed onto the mattress and fell against Paul with a grin. "Hey, Daddy."

"Hey yourself," he greeted, kissing first Paige and then Johnny on top of their heads. "Why do you want me awake?"

"Mommy said so," Johnny clarified.

"She did," Paige confirmed, squirming until she could sit in Paul's lap and face him. "Your hair looks funny."

"No doubt," he agreed. Paul smiled at his daughter, a petite blond with soft hazel eyes. At four she was the family's baby, and the only girl.

Six year old Johnny narrowed his eyes. "Will you take us to the zoo?"

Paul moved Paige to the side and slid off the bed. "Probably not today, Son, but soon."

"But this is our celebration day," Johnny argued.

Paul pulled the boy up to a standing position on the mattress. Johnny's brown eyes regarded him thoughtfully as his father brushed back the little boy's brown bangs. His son was overdue for a haircut but Paul hadn't had a free afternoon to take him to a barber and couldn't rely upon Charlie to do so. His wife thought all three boys were simply adorable with longish hair, so arranging haircuts fell to him.

That was one of his scheduled errands this morning.

Paul tapped Johnny on the nose. "Right, but first in the morning we take care of all our errands so that then this afternoon we celebrate."

"I'm 'cited!" Paige squealed, clapping her hands together. "I'm going to school!"

The truth was that the past two years Paige had begged to accompany her older brothers to school, but of course, she was too young. In addition, the five year old, Mike, had been too young as well, but this year he would enter kindergarten. Charlie and Paul had privately agonized over how Paige would handle the separation and had finally come up with a solution. They enrolled her in a private preschool program run through a church very near the elementary school all three boys would attend. Though she would not have siblings there, Paige would have opportunities to interact with other children.

Paul shook his head and pretended to not understand. "School? I don't remember anything about school?"

"Yes Daddy, you do!" Paige insisted. "Everybody starts school tomorrow and I am everybody too."

He couldn't restrain his laughter. "Yes you are, baby girl." He glanced deliberately at the bed and then back at Paige and Johnny. "If I had some helpers this morning to assist me in making my bed I would get finished faster and we could start our day sooner."

"Count on me," Johnny volunteered, racing to the opposite side. Paige joined him and the two yanked at the comforter and straightened the pillows.

Once Paul dressed he motioned them to follow.

Before heading downstairs he checked bedrooms to make sure the kids had made their beds and put up toys and belongings. Those were expected duties.

Dale and Mike still lingered at breakfast and Paul threw and arm around each and kissed them both. At seven Dale was the oldest and also the most reserved. Truthfully Paul described him as taciturn. On the other hand, Mike was the shyest of all four progeny.

Paul slipped up behind Charlie as she loaded dishes into the dishwasher and nuzzled the back of her neck. "You should have waited for me to help."

Charlie had her long hair fastened into a high ponytail. She turned to regard him. "I wanted you to have an extra half hour of sleep. The kids will wear us out today."

Paul tilted his head and licked his lips suggestively. Even after years together he still considered Charlie DeMarco one of the most beautiful women he had ever encountered. Petite and lithe, her brown hair and eyes adorned an intelligent woman with a fantastic sense of humor. "You look scrumptious, sweet thing," he whispered.

She slid her arms around his neck and ran her fingernails across his scalp. "I have to match my husband with good looks. You know how you turn heads with your rugged physique and soulful brown eyes, Paul Briggss."

A dish crashing to the floor interrupted and both swiveled to locate the damage. Dale immediately jumped up from his seat and held up his hands to proclaim his innocence. "Not I- my glass and cereal bowl are in the dishwasher already."

Paul hastily grabbed the overturned cereal dish on the floor.

Little Mike threw himself back in his own chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

Evidently the almost-kindergartner was miffed.

"What happened, Big Boy?" Paul questioned. "Tell me, but help clean this up while you tell me."

Instead of obeying Mike puffed out his lip. Behind Paul, Dale shared his take on Mike's displeasure. "He got mad 'cause I said only babies still have to take naps 'cause he and Paige do. They nap like every single day."

"Thanks for the detail," Paul responded drily, "but as a matter of fact I recall seeing you taking a nap just a couple of days ago."

"Only when Mommy made me," Dale sputtered, annoyed at having his seniority as the oldest mixed with the immaturity of the youngest.

Paul turned back to Mike, impressed that the little fellow had maintained his extremely displeased look through the exchange. "Mikey Mike, I believe I told you to start cleaning."

When the child still stayed silent and immobile Paul's demeanor changed.

FBI agents who were parents of four energetic children, he and Charlie expected the kids to follow their instructions immediately.

He announced, "Ok, Mike, that's the second time Daddy told you to help clean. Now I'm counting, and remember that if I have to get to three, then…."

"You can spank him!" Johnny contributed from across the room where he lay across the sofa back, perfectly balanced like an airplane.

"If anyone gets spanked it's going to be you if you fall off the sofa and break my lamp," Charlie promised, stooping to retrieve the dishwasher detergent.

"One," Paul counted, focusing upon Mike. "Two." With no movement from the five year old Paul reminded him, "If I get to three and you are still sitting you are headed straight to time out, Michael."

Mike shifted but remained resolute. Paige regarded her brother wide eyed. Rarely did Mike bring trouble onto his head. Unlike his older brothers, Mike was practically a maintenance free boy.

"Three," Paul finished and swung the little boy from his chair and to a standing position on the floor. "You just earned yourself a timeout."

At that Mike's bravado disappeared and tears started. His lip wobbled as he pleaded with his father, "I'm sorry and I don't want to have timeout now."

"Evidently not," Paul agreed, "but the fact is that you earned it by deciding to ignore me. So you have five minutes of punishment which is just about to go higher for every minute you stand here instead of making your way to the timeout chair."

Stricken at his brother's ordeal and a bit guilty that he had provoked the standoff Dale urged reasonably, "Go to timeout Mike because today's the day we finish getting our school supplies and have our celebration."

Mike rubbed at his eyes and regarded Briggs miserably. Paul pointed towards the designated timeout spot. "Either go now, Son, or your behavior will move right into a worse punishment."

"That's the spanking," Paige contributed, "and your bottom will hurt then."

"Nope," Johnny contradicted, "not next. Next is he has to go to his room or not get to see any tv or something like that."

Dale puzzled out loud. "Mommy, will he miss the school shopping trip? Where will he stay if we leave him? Will he go to the sitter instead?"

Charlie ignored him and picked up the kitchen timer. She spoke warningly, "Michael, Daddy has told you what the consequences are for disobeying. I believe you are now already up to seven timeout minutes." She turned timer's hands and pointed at the number. "Do you want to go up to eight?"

Looking from his mother to his father Mike finally made the right decision. He reversed course and claimed his timeout seat.

Paul raised his eyebrows questioningly at Charlie and she shrugged her shoulders to signal her own cluelessness. Rarely did their little Mike require a second correction.


	2. Celebration Day

Celebration Day

Hours later all four children hauled their own school supplies into the house. Charlie directed each to a separate area of the living room to reduce the chance of mix ups or any battles over whose items belonged to whom. She and Paul planned to supervise as each filled new backpacks, cross-referencing against their printed school lists.

Savvy to the importance of keeping on hand extra school necessities, Charlie had also bought additional paper, pencils, crayons, markers, posters, folders, tape, and assorted clips which she stored in the laundry room on shelves accessible to the kids.

Paul stooped beside Dale and marveled at Dale's choice of bookbag, a sturdy one adorned with scenes of martial arts. "See, Daddy," the seven year old opened up his notebook before pointing to the bookbag. "That's Bruce Lee right there in the middle. He's the one who invented all the martial arts and he was the best in the world."

Paul studied the picture. "He didn't invent the martial arts, son, but he introduced mainstream America to them."

Dale frowned impatiently. "I already know that."

His father chuckled. "Yes you do."

Dale snapped the prongs of the notebook open and began adding paper. "Remember you said I could take lessons this year. Remember?"

"I did, and I promise it won't be long." Paul rubbed his chin and mentally cringed. Dale had begged to learn martial arts for an entire year and though Paul held no objection, Charlie uncharacteristically had proved the stumbling block, though she adamantly denied her husband's accusation that she wanted to coddle their eldest. Despite information to the contrary she convinced herself that the martial arts sport itself ranked right up there with boxing or football in participant injuries. Paul had almost worn her down in the past month though, mainly by printing off reports and articles detailing the positive aspects of the sport and leaving them where she would find them.

"Load everything in your bookbag and set it in the foyer for the morning," Paul instructed, indicating the area the family used to grab belongings (or forget belongings!) before running out the front door.

Across the living room Charlie sat crosslegged in front of Mike and attempted to reason with him over his inventory of supplies. "Honey, listen," she spoke cajolingly. "All of the kids in your class will give the teacher the boxes of tissue, the scissors, and the storybooks. All of them. Then all year long she will have all the tissue and books and scissors from all the boys and girls to use for all of you in the kindergarten class. But in your cubby you can keep your folder and glue sticks, and even your crayons and writing pad."

Mike remained unconvinced. He tilted his head and scratched absentmindedly at his ankle. "I want to keep my crayons and writing pad, Mommy."

"You will," Charlie promised. "Remember when Daddy and I took you to meet Ms. Holt? She took you over to the cubbies and you found your name on yours. Remember that she said you were very smart because you already knew how to spell your name?"

"Yes."

"Well, Ms. Holt is your teacher and she wants those things to stay in your cubby until you use them."

Mike still looked troubled so Charlie leaned towards him and cupped his face in her hands. "Other kids will put their tablets and crayons in their cubbies, too, and their cubbies will have their names. If anyone takes something which is not his, then Ms. Holt will make him return it, ok?"

Mike brightened and Charlie sighed inwardly. She had not been entirely certain why Mike balked at the prospect of relinquishing his supplies but she finally recognized his resistance. "What happens at home if you take something that belongs to Dale or Paige or Johnny without asking?"

"I get in trouble."

"Exactly," Charlie confirmed. "It will be like that at school." She smiled. "Now, go ahead and pack your bookbag and then I will watch you place it by the door for your first day of kindergarten tomorrow. Ok?"

Mike methodically gathered his belongings and packed them carefully into the space of his animal embellished bookbag. This particular bag had caught the five year old's eye because of the multitude of animals it highlighted- zebras, camels, llamas, donkeys, moose, elk, buffalo, and even a rhinoceros- all on a bright yellow background.

Charlie waited patiently. Of all of her children, Mike was the only one of the four who shunned spontaneity. His preference was to confront his activities with precise, methodical approaches and thoughtful contemplation.

She caught Paul's eye across the room and he winked and blew a kiss. Paul lay on his side on the floor, head propped on his arm as he provided an attentive audience to Johnny, who spoke exuberantly as he regarded his own supplies.

The six year old lay on his stomach and swung his legs from side to side.

Whereas Dale had a muscular build much like Paul's, Johnny stayed thin. Still, the younger child had nearly caught up with his brother in height, much to Dale's irritation.

"So then, Daddy 'cause I'm in first grade now you can sign me up for soccer and football." Johnny emphasized the _and_ before adding, "Then swimming." He paused and recalculated. "But I already swim, so next I will make the baseball team." Johnny brightened. "Can I join the basketball team too?"

Paul started laughing. Johnny loved athletics and had done so from his first introductions to physical play and sports. Luckily, he had been born with talent and physical prowess. Sports proved a wonderful outlet for the boy's whirlwind energy.

"You didn't listen to me!" Johnny accused, puffing out his lip in a pout.

"I listened," Paul contradicted, "but you know your mom and I will probably want you to narrow down your choices to one or two of those."

"Oh," Johnny pointed to the center of his bookbag. "See that, Daddy? He's a Navy SEAL. That's what I'm gonna be when I get grown." The little boy had opted for a bookbag with a camouflage background that featured all four branches of the United States Military.

A sudden flood of emotion slammed into Paul and he blinked quickly. When the day came for Johnny to leave his protection and take on the world, would he have the fortitude to allow his baby to go?

Privately he and Charlie had agreed that of their four, Johnny was the child most likely to join the military. In bed lying in each other's arms they would marvel over each child's strengths and budding personality as they whispered their dreams and fears for the four. Dale, they felt certain, would seek a career in engineering. Their eldest spent hours taking apart and putting back together one engine or motor after another. He would want to work with his hands. They determined Paige would surely gravitate towards the law. The little girl already possessed a penchant for supporting her own motives with thoughtful arguments and debates. The most introverted of the family, Mike, was so detail oriented that Paul and Charlie thought he'd seek out a career where he could excel in its research, or perhaps even work as an analyst in some field which demanded intellect and focus.

"Finished!" Johnny announced triumphantly, interrupting Paul's musings.

His father pulled himself into a sitting position and stretched. "Good job, Big Boy. Now go put your bookbag in the foyer for me."

Watching Mike place his bag carefully by the door, Charlie turned her attention to Paige. The little girl had selected a light blue bookbag adorned with colorful fairies and sat with it in her lap, making up a conversation between two of the fairies.

Charlie tapped Paige on the chin. "Did you pack?"

Paige wrinkled her nose and blinked. "I put my blanket and books inside." Paige had debated out loud between two pillows at the store, a pink one with ruffles on the side and a green one shaped like a heart.

She eventually settled for the ruffled one.

The church day care provided small cots for naptime, but suggested parents provide a blanket and pillow for each child to leave there for personal use.

"What about the pillow?"

Paige unzipped the bookbag and pointed into the interior. "In there with my other clothes." The nursery had also requested a change of clothes to remain at the center for just-in-case emergencies.

Charlie conducted a quick inventory. "Perfect, Paige. You have put everything in that you need to take."

Paige grinned and confirmed, "I know, 'cause I'm a smart girl."

"You certainly are," Charlie smiled. "Now, do me a favor and move your bookbag over by the door and put it with the others."

Charlie glanced at the clock on the mantle and moved into the kitchen. Part of their day of celebration had included a trip to Hector's Tacos, which all four children loved, for lunch. Aware that the remainder of the day would demand her attention to preparations for a smooth first day of school, Charlie had told Paul to order enough to allow a repeat for supper. Years earlier Charlie had installed a cooler and thermal container in the car's trunk which remained for just such occasions. The food would keep until the family got home.

She congratulated herself for the strategic planning. Once the children ate, the supper would require minimal cleanup and they could get the kids bathed and in bed without having to rush them.

The week before Paul had held down the fort four separate evenings as Charlie took each child individually to buy school clothes, so that particular hurdle had been crossed and handled. Before they left the house earlier in the day she and Paul supervised all four as they readied their first day outfits, right down to shoes, and put them out for the following morning.

Before lunch Paul overrode her objections and took the boys for haircuts while she and Paige ran other errands.

The family regrouped at Hector's before spending a highly anticipated afternoon at _Tramp,_ an outdoor trampoline park. Different areas of the park had been designated for certain ages or skill groups and were closely monitored by _Tramp_ staff members.

Paul and Charlie mingled with other parents who sat in bleachers surrounding the play areas.

Johnny had begged to attempt the area populated by middle schoolers and Charlie finally acceded. Within minutes he provided stiff competition for kids four grades ahead of him.

Dale refused to stop to take a break and jumped steadily until they left the park.

Mike and Paige played hard- he gravitated to an area where he could jump alone, while his sister thrust herself into the middle of a group of girls already playing and befriended them. A half hour later Paige collided with another child and though neither was seriously hurt she cried and climbed down from the mat. She continued to cry until she wound her way into the stands and climbed into Paul's lap. Once she garnered sympathy for her collision she settled against her daddy. He rubbed her back and hair until sleep claimed her.

Charlie winked at him and then motioned to Mike, who had stopped jumping and scooted the middle of the canvas a few minutes earlier. He came wordlessly and curled against her. She shifted him into her lap so that he could watch his brothers, but within minutes he had fallen asleep as well.

Both parents considered themselves fortunate that the two youngest had not missed naptime, having experienced the alternate, opposite, nerve wracking scenario.

An hour later they called time to Johnny and Dale who passionately begged to stay longer. They won them over by reminding the boys that the next stop was for school supplies.

By eight that night all four kids, bathed and with brushed teeth, had been tucked into beds. Paul and Charlie had cuddled with each as they read bedtime stories, and within a half hour, they slept soundly.

Prioritizing, the adults jogged downstairs and worked quickly to ready the kitchen for breakfast, straighten the house, and tackle laundry. They took turns at showering to leave hot water in the water heater for their own bathing and for the washing machine.

An hour later Charlie and Paul regarded each other with satisfied- but exhausted- expressions. Pointing towards the upstairs, Paul cut off the lamps as they wearily headed to bed.


	3. Parent Vacation

Parent Vacation

Paul and Charlie arranged to take the day off of work the day before the first day of school and the first day of school itself to devote their energies into providing the kids a great start to the school year.

Ushering all four into the church annex which housed Paige's daycare the next morning Paul leaned down and whispered, "You do realize this starts the ultimate parent vacation, don't you, Babe?"

Charlie smirked, "Agent Briggs, shame on you for calling the start of the school year a parent vacation."

The boys followed behind and watched quietly as little Paige skipped between their parents, each of her tiny hands grasped in one of theirs. Charlie had French braided the four year old's hair into two blond ponytails, and Paige wore her brand new pink and green striped sundress and tiny sandals, with her fairy bookbag strapped onto her shoulders.

More parents milled around as they dropped off their own preschoolers, and Paul and Charlie wound their way into the classroom, reminding Paige of the areas for reading and napping before instructing her to locate her cubby. Paige slipped her personal belongings into the space and hung her bag on the hook beneath it.

Charlie handed her the supplies earmarked for class use and sent her to give them to her teacher. Watching their daughter dance away without a backward glance Charlie's voice faltered into a complaint, "Our baby, Paul- we are sending our little girl away and look at her. She doesn't even miss us or seem homesick!"

Paul placed his hand comfortingly on Charlie's back and murmured, "You know that we want this. We want her comfortable and unafraid."

Charlie smiled self-consciously. "I know. I guess maybe the problem is I have now lost the last of my babies to the excitement and lure of peers and teachers."

Paige retraced her steps and grinned delightedly. "I saw the fish in the aquarium for our class. They're pretty and I saw a snail too."

Charlie knelt down and kissed her forehead. "It's time for your schoolday to start, Honey, and for us to go. You need to go tell your brothers good-bye." The boys had waited patiently within eyesight in the hall and had not ventured into the classroom. "Ok?"

"Yes!" Paige hurried to obey.

Paul and Charlie offered a quick good-bye to the teacher and rejoined the boys, who hugged their little sister one at a time.

Charlie motioned, "Give me a bye bye kiss and have a wonderful day. The boys have to hurry to their school so they don't end up late."

Paige kissed her mother enthusiastically and waved as Charlie led Mike, Dale and Johnny towards the exit and parking lot.

Paul hunkered down and pulled Paige to him. "You are going to love school, Baby, and I can't wait to hear all about what you learn. Be Daddy's good girl." He kissed her softly and then stood, watching as she moved confidently back towards the class.

Suddenly Paige pivoted towards him and he recognized a flicker of fear in her eyes. She raced back and threw herself against his legs, wrapping her arms completely around Paul. He reached down and gently pulled her up to his chest, then embraced her tightly as she nuzzled against him. Seconds later she whispered, "I'm okay now, Daddy. You can put me down."

He did, and that time she marched away from him and straight into the middle of the classroom before turning to blow him a kiss and wave good-bye.

Paul jammed both hands into his pockets and deliberately regulated his breathing before returning to the car and reuniting with Charlie and the boys.

He slid into the driver's seat.

Charlie canted partway across the passenger seat. "Right now, Johnny, all clothes."

Paul glanced into the rearview mirror as he reversed.

Johnny had evidently slipped out of his clothing and his mother did not appreciate his antics.

A foot popped onto the upholstery between Charlie and Paul, accompanied by Dale's announcement, "Johnny's got his feet on the car furniture!"

Mike added with annoyance, "and he slid into me!"

"Johnny, take your foot off the seat right this minute, put your shoes back on your feet, button your shirt right back and sit in your own space!" Charlie snapped.

"Why do I have to do all that now? We're not even near my school," Johnny complained in reply.

"I told you to…."

Paul cleared his throat. "Jonathon-"

Johnny sputtered angrily, "I will get dressed in just a minute. I didn't say I wouldn't get dressed again!"

Paul raised his eyebrows and ordered in the tone of voice all four of his kids recognized as the one preceding an action they would find very unpleasant, "Look at me." Johnny met his gaze in the rearview mirror with a scowl. "Your mom told you to dress. Do it now, don't put any of your body parts in your brothers' seats, and take care of your attitude. Right this minute now."

"Daddy, I…"

"Last time," Paul warned firmly. "If I pull over the car to deal with you this morning I promise you'll be miserable afterwards."

Johnny decided to cooperate with that threat and re-dressed.

Charlie straightened in the seat and called over her shoulder, "I told you this morning how handsome you look in your first day clothes and I want you to stay that good looking."

She placed her hand on Paul's leg and squeezed gently. Even before he could crawl their second son had figured out how to strip off any item of clothing he could manipulate. When he matured into a toddler his clothes and diapers would routinely leave a trail across the floor as he abandoned them. He shed clothing as quickly as they dressed him.

Paul smiled at his wife and glanced back to make sure Johnny had followed through. Despite his very recent naughtiness Johnny generally entertained rather than caused serious trouble.

Johnny caught the glance and grinned back at his father.

Paul flashed back to a scene from his baby days. Johnny must have been around fifteen or sixteen months and Paul came home from work one afternoon to discover Charlie standing unmoving in the living room, arms across her chest as she observed Dale and Paul. The boys stood excitedly watching the garbage truck and garbage men through their picture window, Dale dressed and Johnny buck naked.

Paul slipped up behind his wife and whispered teasingly, "I know that the boys love the garbage man, but Baby, you are riveted. Is there something I should know about one of the men out there?"

She giggled and indicated their youngest. "Save any jealousy because if I leave you I have my sights set on the man who reads our water meter on the sixth of every month. No, it actually just dawned on me that you and I run behind Johnny all day trying to keep him dressed and I'm exhausted. So I have indulged in some reflecting and decided that what actually worries me simply has to do with him not diapered. So, to make our lives less stressful because he has us whipped, the obvious solution lies in potty training him. Now."

"Now? But with Dale…" Paul stammered.

Charlie snapped, "Don't throw another child's development into my face or compare two children! They develop differently. I said we're training this one- your very own little mini-me-Johnny son- and it starts today. That's the end of it."

And so it transpired.

Paul grinned at the memory. Yes, incredibly they managed to train Johnny, and as time passed, to also increase the time he willingly stayed clothed. He laid a hand against Charlie's neck and pulled her towards him. "Nice having him in pants, right Babe? We can celebrate a victory that we're handing him over to his first grade teacher completely dressed. No doubt she will appreciate it."

Charlie glanced into the back seat and whispered gleefully, "If we continue to foster so much family loyalty I guarantee he will keep us out of the nursing home in our elder years by raking in money as a male stripper!"

She and Paul burst into laughter.

"What does snipper mean?" Mike's voice piped from the back.

"Stripper" Charlie responded automatically before she had time to think of the implications. She added quickly, "A stripper works with furniture and helps to beautify it."

Mike contemplated the ramifications. "I want to do that when I get grown. I'll be a snipper and build bunk beds."

"Good luck, son," Paul nodded, a smile playing at his lips.

"We're here!" Dale announced, and Mike strained to see out the window. "School again and second graders are very important." Dale wore navy blue pants and a checked red, white, and blue shirt he had selected.

Johnny's shirt was green and his pants white. Charlie had allowed the white against her better judgment.

Charlie smiled. "Again, Dale? You've had a long two month vacation from these halls of learning."

Parking demanded some attention because so many other families had also driven kids to school for the school's opening day. Paul finally slid into a slot about half a block away from the front doors.

Johnny and Dale hurried to unsnap their seatbelts and clamber to the ground but Mike appeared suddenly frozen.

"Grab your bookbags," Charlie reminded them. Paul unlatched Mike's restraints and handed the five year old his bookbag. "Time to go, Big Boy. This is a banner day in the life of our Mikey Mike."

The child's face clouded and Paul hurriedly hoisted him into his arms. Mike buried his face in his father's shoulder and Paul patted his back encouragingly. "You are going to enjoy kindergarten so much. I promise."

Spying a former classmate and buddy not too far away and impatient at the delay in joining the families moving towards the entrance Dale complained loudly, "If Mike's gonna be a crybaby can Johnny and I just go by ourselves? We know the way."

"Hush!" Paul directed sharply.

"I remember a certain little boy hiding his face in my skirt the first day of kindergarten," Charlie pursed her lips. "Remember that, Dale?"

Mike rubbed his face on Paul's shirt and whispered miserably, "I want Mommy." Paul kissed the top of his head and motioned Charlie. He handed Mike off to her and went to grab Johnny and Dale before they could escape, reminding them that the family planned to enter the school together. First they would accompany Mike to kindergarten, then Johnny to first grade, and last of course, Dale to second.

Charlie rocked side to side as she soothed Mike. She made quick progress because the child's head popped up within a couple of minutes and she had his face dried just as quickly. His mother whispered something to him and Mike nodded vigorously and kissed her cheek enthusiastically before she set him down and took his hand.

Mike pulled her forward. "Daddy, wait! Wait for me please." He grabbed Paul's hand so that his parents flanked him.

Paul winked at him. "You good?"

Mike stopped abruptly and tucked his navy blue button down shirt more securely into his khaki pants. "I'm ready for kindergarten now Daddy. Hand me my bookbag."

Despite the initial setback, Mike marched into his classroom with determination and courage. Charlie watched him with more than a little trepidation. After all, her Michael was the shyest- definitely the most introverted- of the four. He had never even had a day of preschool and here suddenly he was unpacking his belongings in front of his cubby under the watchful eye of Ms. Holt. Sudden tears began to burn and she turned into Paul, who stood ramrod straight beside her, clearly just as tautly wound.

Both waited for reassurance that Mike would make it.

The child hurried back to the doorway and announced seriously, "I'm in safe hands now so you can leave me."

Charlie and Paul burst into relieved laughter and kissed him goodbye. Dale and Johnny reminded their little brother they were in classrooms nearby and would see him in the school.

Surprisingly Johnny entered his first grade room pretty sedately and headed straight to his cubby to put up his supplies. Paul and Charlie elbowed each other as three adorable little girls immediately hurried to gain his attention and flock around him. When Johnny turned around and saw his potential girlfriends he quickly blew a dismissive kiss to his parents before throwing both arms around the girls.

"We'll be grandparents when he's in middle school," Paul predicted darkly.

"It's not our fault if Johnny's a ladies' man." Charlie shushed him and pointed to Dale. "Be careful what you say."

Dale threatened, "I'm going to be the last kid to get to second grade and I'll be embarrassed! Can we please go to my room now?"

His parents picked up the pace and they made it in plenty of time. Dale was actually just the seventh student to arrive, so it gave him the opportunity to act as the veteran when each additional newcomer entered. Their oldest hurriedly allotted them goodbye kisses and dismissed them to turn his entire focus to his second grade classroom.

Paul and Charlie walked back to the car without speaking, both caught up in the emotion of the past hour and the handing over of all four of their children into the capable hands of education.

Paul unlocked the car doors and they slid against the seats.

"Traumatic," she frowned, "Paul, my heart…"

"…is breaking. I know. So is mine." He leaned over and kissed her. "Parent vacation Chuck?"

"Maybe later," Charlie replied. "Another day."

"Good," he agreed, cranking the car. "I'm not really feeling the celebration this morning either."


	4. Confidential Informants

Confidential Informants

A scant week later Paul jetted between the stove, where he attempted to cook supper, and the living room, where he supervised Dale and Johnny's homework. The boys had proved less than cooperative and slid from their seats to wander to the window, or up the stairs, if Paul failed to police them.

"Hey," he barked surveying the living room for the thousandth time. "Dale and Johnny, get right back over here and finish those assignments this minute. I'm not telling you again."

Dale regarded him from across the room where he lay on his back, lazily swinging his legs in the air and drumming a melody with his fingers on the floor. "I'm almost finished with my science," he offered as reassurance.

"Then get over here and finish."

"But the…"

"Now!" Paul scanned the area again. "Where's your brother?"

"Which one?"

"Johnny."

"Bathroom," Dale supplied. "I think."

Paul returned to the kitchen to stir the potatoes boiling on the stove. All four of the kids loved potatoes, especially sweet potatoes, so they showed up on the family's table regularly. Supper had very little prep left to it. The chicken had roasted and he cut off the oven but left the dish inside to keep warm.

The only food he lacked came from the vegetable category.

As he confronted the refrigerator Paul muttered personal observations describing how very taxing raising children was as opposed to fighting hard core criminals on a daily basis. Digging through the contents of the freezer he finally located some frozen butterbeans, ripped open the package, and threw them into a pot.

A wounded Mike appeared in the doorway, his right hand cradled in his left. "Paige bit my finger," he explained pitifully.

Paul narrowed his eyes. "What? Paige did what?"

"She bit me right there." Mike indicated the tip of his index finger.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Mike frowned.

Paul stirred the butterbeans. "Why?"

"Cause she said for me to stop putting my finger on her mouth." Mike scowled at the unpleasant memory.

Paul sighed. "Paige is wrong for biting you but you are equally wrong for putting your hands on her."

"Not my hands, Daddy, my finger."

"Doesn't matter. Don't touch her again."

Mike scowled and looked towards the door. "When is Mommy coming home?"

"Not soon enough to give you a different response. Now are you sure you finished your homework?" The school the boys attended assigned homework for all students 2-3 times per week. Kindergartners were not exempt.

"No."

"I thought you told me you had." Paul looked exasperated. Some genetic mutation had evidently rendered all three of his sons incapable of correctly communicating the status of homework. "What do you have left?"

Mike hopped from one foot to the other. "Blue." To reinforce colors, Ms. Holt would assign a single color as the kindergarten homework focus. The children would trace the name of the color at the top of a handout, then draw a picture demonstrating that color.

"Sit down and do that."

"I want Mommy to help me."

"Mommy's not here."

"I want Mommy to watch me make a smurf." Mike's eyes lit. "A blue smurf, 'cause blue's the color."

"Daddy will have to do." Paul used the slotted cooking spoon to indicate the living room. "Go."

"What about my finger?"

"I just told you not to put your finger in her face, ok?"

"Aren't you going to kiss it?"

Paul put the spoon down onto the counter and motioned Mike to him. He held the small hand and kissed the wound. "How's that?"

Mike cut his eyes towards the door as though his wish could force his mother to appear. "I like when Mommy kisses it better."

"Believe me, I am praying she returns soon just as much as you are."

Resigned, Mike pivoted and resumed his place in the living room.

Mere seconds later a crash galvanized Paul and he confronted the living room scene with growing frustration. The second he appeared in the doorway Johnny and Dale both slipped their hands behind their backs, covertly signaling their exhausted father that their hands had indeed done something their hands should not have done. Paul followed the direction of their united gaze and deduced his eldest had tossed one of Paige's beanbag toys and upset a vase in the foyer.

Miraculously, it had not broken or shattered into smithereens.

He crossed his arms and snapped, "My patience just ran out with you two. Get that vase picked up now, and if you throw anything else in here I will skip any timeouts and go directly to delivering a spanking."

The boys exchanged worried glances.

Johnny ventured, "When is Mommy coming home?"

"Not soon enough. Now do what I just told you and get that vase fixed, then bring your homework into the kitchen. Since I couldn't trust you to function independently you're going to sit right in front of me and finish. You too, Mikey."

Mike looked stricken. "Daddy, I didn't throw it! I promise."

"Wait," Paul ordered. "Where's your sister?"

Johnny jogged to the couch and motioned for Paul to look behind it. There Paige lay, curled up and fast asleep on top of a small area rug.

Paul groaned in frustration. A nap this late in the day meant Paige would not be able to sleep at her normal bedtime. That translated to a seriously long and complicated night.

Paul had experienced nights like those and always hoped to avoid them in the future. Today he had failed.

He hurriedly woke her and stayed until she actually stood and stretched before pointing the boys towards the kitchen.

Paul followed with Paige in tow.

Once Paul had thrown out the _s_ word, the threat of a spanking, the boys injected more visible effort into tackling their homework.

Dale announced he had finished a few minutes later, so Paul directed him to set the table and use Paige as his helper.

Johnny left his pencil and paper on the floor and wandered to the counter to watch Paul julienne carrots. "That's not the way Mommy does that," the six year old observer noted.

Paul inhaled a calming breath. "Did you finish, JohnBoy?"

"All except my words."

"Put your word list right here so I can see it and then you can say them to me." The school required even first graders to practice vocabulary skills.

"Why can't Mommy listen to my words instead?"

"Is she here?" Paul asked rhetorically. "I'm your only choice so you have to deal with me."

Johnny's expression transformed to genuine disappointment. "Well, will she come home soon?"

"I sincerely hope so," Paul assured him. "Now, I'm waiting on you, though."

When Charlie finally made her entrance all of the children greeted her with so much affection and excitement that she leveled a suspicious gaze on her husband.

Drawing the words out, she hissed, "What did you do to them?"

Paul kissed her and whispered, "Woman, you need to resume your station and manage us. Words can not express the gratitude I feel that you have finally returned to accept responsibility for your offspring."

Charlie whispered back, "Appreciate me now, don't you?" She pinched his arm.

"Owww! Why did you pinch me?"

"Your Neanderthal approach," she smirked, eyeing him sideways. She clapped her hands. "All right babies, let's eat."

"Daddy didn't even give us a snack," Paige reported sadly.

Charlie turned to Paul in surprise. He returned her gaze guiltily and mouthed he was sorry.

"It's quite all right," she smiled. "Once your tummies are full you can take nice baths and I believe you'll get to watch some television tonight."

"What about homework?" Johnny attempted to clarify. "Can we finish all of our homework while we watch the television show?"

"Please?" Dale added.

"Your homework's not finished?" Charlie regarded Paul questioningly. "Paul?"

"I supervised," he defended himself. "They claimed they needed you for the majority of it."

She pursed her lips and tried to recalculate. "Oh, ok, ok. Then- well how much is left to do?"

The children hastened to enlighten her.

Mike waved his hand. "You have to see me make a blue smurf, Mommy. My color's blue."

"I need to finish science," Dale added. "The moon and the planets…"

Johnny spoke with a decided tattletale quality to the tone, "I 'plained to Daddy that I needed to finish my vocabulary words but he just wouldn't listen."

Charlie scanned their faces. "Okay, let's go. Since you boys transformed yourselves into my confidential informants, Daddy and Paige can clean up tonight while you finish your work right here at the table with me. Go get your assignments, please."

Paul raised his eyebrows and pretended to be wounded.

Charlie shrugged her shoulders. "Forgiven this time. Next time I won't be so loving, Agent Briggs."


	5. Night Moves

Night Moves

Charlie and Paul struggled to wake at the same time, fighting the clutches of deep sleep that had embraced them.

Paul sat up groggily while Charlie propped on one arm.

Though neither could claim utter consciousness, Charlie at least appeared more lucid.

Paul groaned as his eyes narrowed to focus on the clock- one in the morning.

Dale's fearful voice called out for his parents-again.

Charlie pulled herself against the headboard. "I've got it. I'll check him."

Paul slung an arm across his eyes and then abruptly changed to a sitting position before sliding to the edge of the mattress. "No," Paul contradicted. "Let me go. You just made it to bed yourself. You didn't get to bed until late."

Both Paige and Mike had complained of stomachaches and though Mike had fallen asleep without too much trouble at his normal bedtime, Paige had not slept until nearly eleven. The little girl insisted her stomach hurt very, very, badly.

Charlie had stayed until Paige finally drifted to sleep.

Paul kissed Charlie softly and she slid gratefully back under the covers.

Rather than cut on a light, Paul groped his way around the bed and then engaged the hall switch before moving into Dale's room.

Even in the dim light cast from the hall, Paul saw that a look of relief crossed the child's face once he spotted his father's arrival.

"Hey Daddy," the little boy sighed with relief. "I need you." He held out his arms and Paul scooted onto the edge of the mattress and pulled the seven year old into an embrace.

Paul caressed DJ's hair and rubbed his back. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Uh huh, a really bad one. A really, really bad one, Daddy." Dale tightened his hold on his father, determined to sustain Paul's protection. He situated himself firmly in Paul's lap. "Freddy Kruger chased me and I fell and he almost got me. I screamed. And my stomach hurts."

Paul sighed in frustration and resignation. Never would he or Charlie allow any of the children to watch a horror movie for this very reason, yet despite their wishes Dale now had a genuine fear of a pop cultural character. "Son, where did you hear about Freddy?"

"Zachary's brother saw him at the movie and he told us about him." Dale used his forefinger to tap absentmindedly on Paul's arm as he explained.

Dale and Zachary had stayed friends for quite some time and both tended to hero worship Zack's teen aged brother Ivan. They did their best to emulate him and basked in any attention the high schooler bestowed upon them.

"Okay, but didn't Ivan share with you and Zack that Freddy is a made up character in a made up story? Freddy never lived at all. He's never been real. Anything he told you to describe Freddy is what was done to make his character in the movie scare people." Paul kissed the top of Dale's head. "Understand?"

Dale licked his lips and answered worriedly, "I know he's not here, but maybe Freddy could get into our house and hurt me. Zack said Freddy killed a bunch of kids. You and Mommy have a bunch of kids."

"No," Paul contradicted emphatically, "no- remember he never lived. It was just a movie with a made up person that Zack saw."

"But what if someone like Freddy lived and came here though?"

"I just told you that…"

"Someone like Freddy, but not exactly the real Freddy," Dale attempted to clarify.

"If such a person existed he still would never ever get past me. Mommy and I will always keep you safe and protected and we are always on guard."

"You would beat him up," Dale agreed and Paul leaned over to switch on the bedside lamp. It bathed the bedroom in a soft light.

Paul stood and stretched as he smiled down at his son. Though Dale considered himself practically grown as the oldest of the four children, Paul secretly cherished the sweet remnants of babyhood left in his face.

"Just watch me investigate everywhere in your room." Paul opened the closet, checked the bedroom's corners, and peeped under the bed. "All clear. We are the only two here- I just proved it. Freddy may have been in your dream but that doesn't make him real."

Reassured, the little boy nodded.

Paul motioned to him. "Come with your dad." He escorted his son to the bathroom and waited as Dale used the toilet, washed his hands and drank a glass of water.

"Good job," Paul smiled.

Dale put his hand on his stomach. "My tummy doesn't feel right though."

"It might just be sleepy, but if it really starts hurting you know to come get me."

Paul clasped the little hand in his hand and escorted him back to bed. He tucked the covers securely around Dale and clicked off the light, then settled beside his son and gently rubbed his back until sleep reclaimed the child.

Then tiptoeing, he retraced his steps and gratefully slid back under the covers beside Charlie. He slid her over so that he could wrap her against him as he drifted to sleep.

It felt as though his eyes had barely closed when Charlie's voice woke him. For a couple of seconds he thought it must be morning, but once he opened his eyes the clock said 2:15 a.m.

Charlie perched on the edge of the bed, one arm around a visitor- Johnny, who whispered urgently to his mom.

Paul cleared his throat and attempted to appear as awake as she. "Charlie? Is it DJ?"

She turned to regard him and blew out a steadying breath. "No, Johnny says Paige got sick to her stomach."

Paul tried to clarify, "Did you hear her get sick Johnny?"

"I heard her and I saw her," Johnny shook his head conspiratorially. "Paige came to my bed a long time ago. Then she got sick just now all over everywhere except me. I think she must have been sick when she got there."

Paul and Charlie exchanged glances. Despite the fact that all four children had their very own individual beds, they often roamed at night and created impromptu sleepovers with siblings.

"Are you sick Johnny?" Charlie turned on the lamp. "Do you feel bad?"

Johnny held up his hands and assured her, "No, I'm good. See?"

Paul reached across Charlie and pulled Johnny onto their bed. He kissed the boy's cheek and whispered, "Try to lie down and go back to sleep while Mommy and I deal with Paige."

Obediently, Johnny closed his eyes.

Both parents left him to check on their youngest.

Johnny had described the situation accurately. Poor little Paige had indeed been sick all over Johnny's comforter and all over herself. She lay miserably against one corner of the headboard and Paul and Charlie could hear her whimpering when they entered the room.

Paige burst into loud sobs once she saw her parents approach.

They worked in unison.

Charlie quickly stripped off the child's nightgown and hurried her into the bathroom to bathe her. Paul rolled up the dirty bed linens and nightgown and placed the bundle by the door to haul to the laundry room. Then he worked methodically to make the bed with clean sheets, before finding a clean nightgown for Paige which he took into the bathroom.

Paige stood in the tub crying softly while Charlie sponged her down. When the baby saw her father she called out to him and held out her arms for him to take her.

Paul blew her a kiss and promised to hold her once she finished her bath.

He jogged downstairs and stuffed the bed linens and soiled nightie into the washing machine, then started its wash cycle before climbing the stairs once again.

Charlie had moved Paige out of the tub and had wrapped her in a towel while she straightened the bathroom. Paul quickly finished drying Paige and slid on her clean nightgown before helping her to brush her teeth.

The water had not even emptied from the tub when they heard Mike's scared voice call for them and Charlie straightened tiredly and pointed towards the bedroom. "Let me go check him."

Paul carried Paige into the master bedroom, slid her under the covers and grabbed a trash can. He kissed her and showed her where he had put the trash can in case she felt sick again before he and Charlie returned.

Paul grinned as Paige repositioned herself to gain more space. Johnny slept soundly in the center of the mattress, splayed out all across the bed. Paul stayed until Paige fell into an exhausted sleep before rejoining Charlie.

Déjà vu- the scene repeated the one they had confronted with Paige.

Mike had been sick everywhere, and Charlie had already stripped him of his pajamas and was bathing him in the tub. Paul met them in the bathroom and kissed and reassured Mike before stripping the little fellow's bed, remaking it, and locating clean pajamas for the kindergartner.

The first load of laundry hadn't finished washing so Paul left the new load in front of the machine and exhaled a steadying breath. The laundry had already queued and it seemed a bad omen for the rest of the pre-dawn morning.

Charlie had just finished bathing Mike when he rejoined her. He slipped the little boy out of the water and then told her to take him.

While she dried Mike and dressed him in his clean pajamas Paul scrubbed the tub and straightened the bathroom.

Once he finished the cleaning he discovered Mike's room empty. He cut off the room's lights but left on the overhead in the hall.

Paul found Charlie rocking the little boy in the rocker which had been placed in their bedroom a little over seven years before, and which had never left.

Mike's eyes were closed but Charlie signaled that the child wasn't yet asleep.

Paul glanced at the bed. Paige and Johnny seemed fine.

He backed out of the room and went down the hall to check on his oldest. He made it just in time. Dale stirred restlessly and Paul jumped into action, grabbing the child before hurrying into the bathroom.

Dale's eyes opened. "Daddy, I….."

Holding Dale in front of him Paul yanked open the toilet lid in time. Dale's little tummy convulsed and afterwards, Paul grabbed a washcloth and wiped Dale's face. Paul waited as he rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth, then thought to check the little boy's pajamas.

They had come through the mad rush to the bathroom unblemished. At least he wouldn't have to change.

Dale held up his arms and began to cry, upset with his ordeal and in need of comfort. "I want my Mommy now, ok Daddy? I want Mommy."

Paul kissed his cheek and carried the child into his and Charlie's room. He traded Dale for Mike in Charlie's lap.

Their oldest quickly snuggled and Charlie began soothing him as she had Mike.

Paul held Mike against his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows and Charlie motioned him to slide Mike in the bed with the other two.

What a night, and what a long, upsetting one at that!

With the exception of Johnny, who not only had no sign of any stomach problems but slept soundly the entire night, the rest of the children spent their night either dozing fitfully, or being rushed to the bathroom by their mother or father, or clutching a small trash can to ward off disaster.

Paul and Charlie wiped faces, changed pajamas, comforted, rocked, and tucked in Mike, Paige and Dale until sunrise, when the dawn signaled a hint that the worst was over.

Finally the children slept with some measure of peace.

Charlie surveyed their sick bed filled with all four of their babies and massaged her temples as she consulted her husband. "What now?"

"Why don't you grab a quick nap and I'll stay on duty?" Paul offered generously. "We'll have to wait and see if Johnny suffers the same fate, but I think the worst is over with the other three. You get some sleep and I'll take them downstairs as they wake and pull out the sofa bed for them. We already have ginger ale in the refrigerator and I can make toast."

"I love you," Charlie responded simply, too exhausted to argue with his plan. "If you take this first watch I promise I'll give you the opportunity for a nap later. Right now I don't think I have enough reserve energy to even brush my teeth."

Paul licked his lips and managed to grin provocatively. "Those night moves weren't what you expected, huh Chuck? Couldn't keep the pace?"

Despite her exhaustion she giggled. "Those night moves were a whole lot easier before we had kids."


	6. Epiphany

Epiphany

"Mommy, _please_ " Johnny begged, dragging out the _please_ to curry favor with his recognition of good manners. "Please, Mommy, just this one time."

Charlie proved unrelenting, however. "Absolutely not. You know the house rule. If your dad or I get any communication that you got into trouble at school you will find yourself punished at home."

"But I told you I already learned my lesson!" Johnny accompanied the reminder with his most tragic expression, one which could usually melt his mother- at least a tiny bit.

"You might have, but you still won't go out to play this afternoon because you chose to misbehave at school."

"Mommy….."

Through the picture window Paige and Mikey were visible as they played around the driveway and edge of their yard.

Paige had her favorite doll gripped by one of its arms and she danced around the grassy area and sang enthusiastically and loudly.

Mike operated a battery controlled car which he had received for his birthday, maneuvering it over the inclines his father had helped him arrange for the car's course. Charlie could see his brow furrowed as he examined one of the car's wheels.

Dale and his best friend Zack raced their bikes up and down the bike path which bordered their street. Every minute or so they would pop back into sight as they passed the house. DJ had secured his bike helmet and Charlie reassured herself that he had not removed it.

Discarding the helmet had happened once and only once- Dale had received an immediate and unforgettable punishment and had not attempted to ride without his helmet again.

Johnny, the only child kept indoors, chafed at the captivity, wounded beyond words that he could not join his siblings. Currently he leaned miserably against the back of the sofa so that he could observe them playing without him.

Charlie interrupted his study. "Johnny, put your clothes back on until after dinner, ok?"

"They make me scratchy," he argued.

"That is not plausible," his mother dismissed his point. "You had them on when you left this morning and had you itched then, you would have made sure to tell me. I want you dressed and working on your homework when I come back into the living room."

Scowling, Johnny grabbed his pants from the floor and stomped his legs through, then shimmied into snapping them. He slipped his shirt on but left it unbuttoned, enjoying one residual act of covert defiance.

He wanted to play, and he certainly didn't want to be punished inside and then forced into clothes!

Other kids had parents who probably didn't even care if they got stupid frowny faces at school anyway.

Why blame him if someone else caused the trouble in the first place?

It wasn't even his fault!

Johnny screwed his face up angrily as he recalled the incident.

Getting into trouble at school really occurred because Sophia, his current girlfriend, sent him a picture during class while the teacher worked with the Kitty Cat group on sight words. Unfortunately the coloring dropped on the floor in the passing attempt and Johnny called out a bit loudly to the student picking it up from the floor, "Pass it over here, Greg. Sophia's sending her heart to me."

The response was immediate. First the teacher fussed irritably at his group, the Puppy Dogs, for not reading silently as they had been instructed, and at Sophia's group, the Tadpole Frogs, for not printing their story words on their cards. Of course the teacher also awarded Sophia and Johnny frowny faces on their take home daily reports, and felt it necessary to provide details of the transgression for their parents to read.

Sophia cried on the way to buses and Johnny tried to comfort her. Despite his own worry that Paul and Charlie would punish him for the misdeed, he held Sophia's hand when she told him she still loved him.

He told her he loved her, too.

Charlie's voice intruded upon his rationalizing and unfortunately, he responded in a tone of voice his mother and father always designated as smart mouthed.

Thus, Johnny found himself banished to his room.

His extroverted nature suffered with every step he climbed and feeling particularly victimized, he threw himself face down on his bed.

Paul got home from the Agency not long afterwards. The other three children raced to greet him when he climbed from the jeep. They demanded his attention for the next few minutes.

Paul watched Mike demonstrate how he maneuvered his car through the manmade obstacle and then onto the grass and bragged on the boy's addition to the racecourse.

DJ rode all the way down the road with just one hand, the other poised several inches above the handle bars. Paul cheered for him.

Paige requested a lift and he raised her to sit on his shoulders while they waited for the boys to put up their belongings.

Finally, they traipsed inside.

Charlie had begun supper and the children competed to describe their outdoor accomplishments. They washed their hands and then scattered to tend to various chores.

Paul took advantage of the privacy and pinned Charlie against the cabinet by the sink.

Charlie slid her arms around him and they indulged in a teasing kiss while the kids set the table.

"Yuck!" Dale announced when he discovered them. "Are you gonna kiss all night?"

His mother pushed Paul away and reassured him. "I'll try to limit myself."

Paul grinned at his oldest. "One day that will be you, Son. You will meet a beautiful woman just like your mommy and…"

At Dale's look of horror both parents burst into laughter.

"Where is JohnBoy?" Paul questioned, scanning the living room. "I haven't seen him since I got back from work. He wasn't outside."

The others felt thrilled to impart the news of Johnny's misbehavior punishment before Charlie shushed them and filled Paul in on the nitty gritty.

Paul began chuckling the second Charlie described the heart and they laughed together over Sophia's declaration of love and of Johnny's popularity with females.

"Our poor little Romeo," Paul consulted the clock. "When can he be sprung?"

"Now, actually," Charlie replied. "I'll send Paige upstairs with the message that the punishment had finished. Johnny still needs to do his homework."

Paul contradicted, "Naw, let me go to our little delinquent." He jogged out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Johnny lay diagonally across his bed, one arm slung across his face. Paul could see the trace of tears on his lashes and cheeks.

He sat down on the comforter and dragged the little body towards him.

Johnny removed his arm and opened his eyes, then puffed his mouth into a pout.

"Hey, punishment's over now. You can come downstairs. It's almost time for supper and you still have homework, right?"

A scowl answered for him.

Paul sighed and brushed back the little boy's hair. "Tell me why you were punished, JT."

Johnny scooted to a seated position and regarded his father seriously. "Daddy, is it my fault if Sophia loves me?"

"No," Paul shook his head.

"And it's not my fault that she colored me a heart and it fell on the floor." Johnny crossed his arms dramatically across his chest, certain of his own innocence. "But then the teacher just got mad and gave both of us frowny faces."

His father tilted his head and regarded him. "When you talked during silent reading you disobeyed the teacher's instructions. So she thought of all of that taken together with the heart and not reading and that is why she gave you a frowny face."

"But I already got punished at school and Mommy wouldn't let me go outside. That's two punishments."

"True, but we have told you that misbehaving at school will be met with a consequence at home. That's the way it is for all four of you kids. If you don't want to miss out on playtime at home, then behave at school."

Johnny dropped his eyes but Paul lifted up the small chin. "Look at me." He waited for Johnny to comply and continued, "Still, there is more to the story. You managed to get yourself into worse trouble because of what?"

Johnny shifted but answered honestly. "Back talked- I was smart mouthed to Mommy."

"Did you accomplish anything positive with that?"

The first grader grinned self-consciously. "No, no I didn't, Daddy."

Paul regarded him and the corner of his lips turned up in a smile. "That's called an epiphany."

"Epippany?"

"No, e-piph-a-ny. It means you suddenly have an insight. You learn something."

"Ok," Johnny answered thoughtfully.

"So, what was your epiphany?"

The little boy rubbed his chin. "My epippany was that Mommy got really mad when I talked back to her, so I don't guess I should do that again."

Paul hid a grin. "Good answer."

He stood up and motioned Johnny to stand on the mattress, then turned so the little boy could climb on him for a piggy back ride.

Johnny leaned over and kissed the side of Paul's cheek. "I love you, Daddy, but I love Mommy, too. That's not an epippany, though. I already knew that."

Paul smiled and started towards the stairs. "We love you too, Loverboy, and that's not an epiphany, it's an- we always will."


	7. Responsibility

Responsibility

Dale lay on his tummy on the floor tapping the eraser of his pencil against his chin. Brow furrowed in thought, he propped on his elbows and stared vacantly at the ocean through the picture window.

Behind him the familiar sounds of his household buzzed.

Supper preparations had begun, and it was that time of day when all of his siblings either worked actively on homework, or had already completed their homework assignments.

Dale raised his upper body a bit so that he could peep over his shoulder. Paige sat in Paul's lap reciting her rhyming words for the next day.

"Block, sock, scott," she chanted, punctuating each word by tapping her father's wrist.

"Not scott," Paul corrected. "That would rhyme with spot. Your rhymes need the _ock_ sound."

Paige resumed her task, "Block, sock, rock…"

Dale turned away. Truthfully his little sister didn't interest him too much. At four, she bothered him most of the time by demanding to tag along with him and the last thing he wanted was a little kid hanging onto him. At seven, he and his friends wanted to jet between one activity or another and most of the time Paige couldn't keep up.

Dale sighed dramatically and regarded the little girl with a more speculative glance. He had to be painstakingly careful when he ditched her these days. Before the school year started he had landed in a world of trouble which began because he ditched her. He and his friends tried to elude her one summer morning by winding in and out of a clump of bushes at the end of their street.

After a few minutes of frustration trying to catch her brother, Paige plopped down under one of the bushes and began to cry. Hearing her sob, Dale stopped for a moment and ordered irritably, "Quit crying Paige! Just wait there and we'll be back in a while."

Not interested in a response, Dale and his buddies raced off in the opposite direction, congratulating each other at their freedom and laughing at how Paige had believed Dale would return.

They stopped when they reached Zack's house and set up a bullseye target against one of Zack's trees. All of the boys practiced hitting it using the slingshot Zack had gotten for his birthday.

Dale out threw them all.

He knew he would because he always did.

His dad always bragged on Dale's innate knack of timing and obvious skill in target practice.

Some time later the boys became aware of a flurry of activity and sound on the periphery of their universe. It was intrusive enough that they stopped playing to investigate. Every available adult in the neighborhood had gathered into a semi-circle in the center of the street, their voices rising and lowering as they consulted a frantic Charlie.

A knot of fear suddenly galvanized him.

Abandoning his friends, Dale jogged over to his mother and his heart quickened at the sheer terror on her face. He had the horrible feeling that he was responsible for the crisis.

He sucked in a breath.

A line of children perched wide eyed on the rough concrete curb in front of his neighbor's house and Dale noted Mike and Johnny in the group.

It took several seconds for him to sort through the adult language and grasp Paige was missing. Dread and a suspicious realization slammed into him. "Mommy, mommy!" He grabbed Charlie's hand and yanked her towards the shrubbed area down the street, the explanation of his last contact with Paige sputtering from his mouth in a stream of disjointed words and syllables.

Charlie managed to translate the gist of the confession. She shook off his hand and ran in the direction he had indicated. Dale stayed where she left him and watched as the other adults fanned out behind her and jogged down the street.

His friends regarded him with wide-eyed glances which mirrored the guilt in his own. Dale moved woodenly and scooted to a seat between Johnny and Mike.

Time stood still and dragged all at the same time.

It took the grownups half an hour to locate Paige.

Apparently the preschooler had fallen asleep waiting for her brother and his friends to return. When Paige awoke disoriented and scared she set off in what she thought was the direction of her home.

In actuality, she moved farther and farther from Graceland.

By the time one of the neighbors spotted her, a terrified Paige was dirty, crying, and had skinned both knees and her elbow tripping over a tree root. Charlie snatched her little girl into her arms and burst into tears herself.

The entire scene had been just that traumatic- traumatic for every single one of them. Even thinking back on that morning brought the waves of fear for Paige's safety flooding back over Dale.

Dale shifted and took one more appraising look at Paul and Paige as she continued with her rhyming words, then settled back down against the floor. He was glad that she was ok in the end.

That incident had left quite an impression, and not just in the dread of realizing he was at fault and his sister could be hurt.

Paul had yanked him across his lap and spanked him as a consequence.

Spankings were so rare a punishment at Graceland that all the children grasped the severity of Dale's crime.

Dale cast an appraising look at his baby sister. Not only did he now keep tabs on Paige when she was with him, but he never again abandoned one of his siblings outside of their home.

In all of his seven year old wisdom, Dale acknowledged that he had earned the punishment and he deserved it- even though his father's hand was painful. His dad had reminded him that when he constantly begged his parents to allow him more privileges as the eldest, he needed to have earned those extras by having proved he could conduct himself responsibly.

Mike's tennis shoed feet appeared before his line of vision.

"What?" Dale growled, recognizing the shoelaces. "I told you no already that you can't borrow my magnifying glass."

No response.

Dale jabbed his pencil on the paper in rapid succession, creating a pattern of little graphite circles halfway across the margin.

Mike stayed put.

Protecting each other certainly didn't apply indoors with both parents home and visible! "Go away," he ordered with a hiss.

Mike shifted and refused, "No."

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Mommy said I can play," the little boy explained.

Dale responded sarcastically, "Go play then. I don't care." He mocked Mike's voice as he added, "You're not my responsibility right now."

No response.

Why did his family include brothers and a sister who pestered him? Why did he even have to be the oldest of the kids anyway?

Mike shifted again. "I'm telling."

"Telling what?" Dale demanded, scowling.

These younger ones were annoying and ridiculous and always trying to get him into trouble.

What happened to being an only child? Why had his mom and dad added to an already perfect family with an only child?

"I'm telling," Mike repeated but hurt laced his words.

"I'm telling," Dale mocked, imitating the childish sound of Mike's five year old voice. "Go tell then. I don't care."

That did the trick.

The tennis shoes departed.

Dale closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Wait for it…wait for it….."

"DJ," Paul's voice called with that stern tone that meant business. "What are you doing over there?"

For a second he toyed with not responding, but decided that wasn't a wise choice. His father's carefully uttered syllables alerted him that Mike had done just as expected and tattled to a parent. He spoke pleasantly. "Daddy I'm working on something. I need to finish my homework."

"Ok," Paul accepted the explanation.

Dale's listened as Mike's voice rose in protest. "No," he heard Paul contradict, "do not go back over there again. Since you finished your own homework go find something else to do, Michael."

Dale ignored the rest of the exchange. The pencil dotted paper stared back at him and he licked his lips and tried to corral his creativity. He needed to put something down on the paper and just finish the assignment.

Charlie's voice drifted down from the upstairs landing. Dale clambered to a sitting position and regarded her from his vantage point. His mother was in conversation with Johnny, who apparently wanted her to act as audience while he modeled a couple of outfits. Picture day was the next day at the school the boys attended and Johnny planned to dress to the nines.

Dale shook his head in exasperation and blew out a defeated breath. Common sense told him his mom would insist on thorough baths for the boys that night which translated to his television time would be compromised. That meant she would check ears and fingernails and demand shampooed hair.

Dale grimaced. Other than Johnny, who cared about how they looked anyway?

Johnny just wanted to make sure he was handsome to parade in front of his many girlfriends.

Girls! Dale shuddered. What boy wanted a cootie headed girl sending love letters or trying to kiss him, other than Johnny?

The image made him smile. He could easily imagine the supper time conversation that would transpire that night. His dad and mom would tease Johnny about his female groupies and they would listen raptly as he- their eldest, discussed his own upcoming soccer game that weekend. They would congratulate Mikey on reciting all of the names of the planets and brag on Paige for not having a frowny face on her daily school report. Then his daddy would wink at his mommy and she would blow his dad a kiss from across the table.

His mom would make them put their napkins in their laps and would demand good manners. His dad would agree and support her. Like always, he would say that his children had better not resemble uncivilized humans who couldn't conduct themselves at the table!

Dale yelled up to his mother, "How do you spell sponsorbility?"

"Re-spon-si-bil-i-ty," Charlie stressed the syllables as she leaned over the banister. "It's r-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-i-l-i-t-y."

Dale knew what he wanted to write.

 _Responsibility_

 _by Dale_

 _This is my family and they are my responsibility and we live at graseland with all of us. I have a pretty mommy and she loves me. my daddy teaches me things all the time like socker. johnny is my brother paige is my sister but mike is my brother too. I am seven but I will be eight soon. sometimes they make me mad. but they all love me and I love them. my family gose to the zoo and park. mommy and daddy keep me safe. we take care of each other. I have chores I have to do every day. I will grow up and be a police or I will drive racecars.? The end_


	8. Partnerships

Partnerships

Charlie placed a finger to her lips and signaled Paul as he came through the front door. He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, slid off his jacket, and slipped quietly into the living room.

Mike lay across Charlie's lap, sound asleep in his five year old dreamland.

Paul leaned down and kissed the top of his wife's head. "The others in bed?" he whispered.

She answered softly, "All down except our little man. He insisted he had something important to ask you and begged to wait with me."

"Got it," Paul smiled and slid an arm under the sleeping child. Mike shifted as his father lifted him against his shoulder, but stayed asleep.

Charlie stood and stretched as she watched her husband carry Mike up the stairs and to his room. Now that Paul had returned she felt drained. She was more tired than she had realized, and with a glance around the empty downstairs, decided to lock up and head to bed herself.

In the bedroom Paul leaned down to position Mikey under the covers. Paul marveled at how very little the boy weighed, yet Mike was slender and a bit tall for his age. The pediatrician had predicted an adult height for the child of six feet at least.

Mike's Spiderman pajama top had ridden up and Paul raised the child and smoothed it.

As he fumbled for the lamp's switch a small voice hailed him. "Hey Daddy."

Paul turned to regard the little boy. "Hey, close your eyes and go back to sleep, Son," he murmured. "It's still night time."

Instead, Mike maneuvered himself into a sitting position. He motioned and waited until Paul perched on the edge of his bed before he spoke. "Everyone went to sleep at the same time except Mommy and I didn't." He yawned widely and decided to elaborate. "Mommy and I stayed up late and waited for you to come back home from working."

"I know. I saw you downstairs when I got home tonight."

The little boy tugged at Paul's arm and repositioned himself so that Paul could slide against the headboard and pull him across his lap.

Paul ran a hand through the soft blond hair and reminded himself that his precocious youngest son already showed signs of possessing sharp skills in strategic and analytic thinking. His mind tended to focus upon the how of what made something work.

Mike leaned his head across his father's strong forearm and yawned widely again, showcasing his missing upper tooth. That loss had been the first for the boy and he had nearly driven his parents crazy with questions as he elicited clarity upon how the tooth fairy would exchange his tooth for money without waking him.

Paul watched the yawn and lure of sleep and hid an experienced grin.

Mike's tenacity amazed him.

"Daddy I want to go to work with you tomorrow. I want to go to the Agency, too."

"You have school tomorrow, Big Boy."

"No," Mike corrected, "tomorrow there is no school. Ms. Holt said so."

Paul remembered then. "You are so right about that and I did know. It slipped my mind that it's a teacher planning day for all of you. Remember that is why the sitter is watching you four tomorrow."

"Since my teacher said no school you can take me to work," Mike repeated. He spoke earnestly and patted his father's hand as he did so. "Please. You will take me to work, please."

"That's probably not a good idea," Negating the plan, Paul reasoned. "Daddy will be too busy to pay attention to you because I'll have to focus on my job. You'd get bored waiting for me to pay attention to you. Besides, you know you would miss your brothers and sister."

Mike's brow furrowed. Though generally pretty amiable, the boy possessed a strong stubborn streak which surprised his parents when it surfaced. "I'll be very, very good and you don't have to talk to me," he insisted.

Charlie appeared at the door and spotting her husband cradling the kindergartner and Mike awake, moved quickly to the bed. She placed a hand on his forehead. "What's wrong, Honey? Do you feel sick to your tummy?"

Mike shook his head emphatically. "No, Daddy and I are having an important discussion."

"Oh, ok-" Charlie looked questioningly at Paul, who shrugged his shoulders in reply. "Well, hurry and finish the discussion soon. You need to be night-night."

She leaned down and kissed him and winked at Paul before departing.

"Daddy, please," Mike resumed his appeal when his mother departed.

Paul tilted the tiny chin up towards him. "How about this? Why don't you tell me why you want to go with me to work tomorrow."

The child didn't hesitate. "Cause when I grow up I want to work with you and Mommy."

"The FBI? You want to become an agent?"

Mike's blue eyes flashed with excitement. "Yes, Daddy! Then I will arrest all the bad people and the good people will be happy."

Paul smiled down at him. "That makes me proud that you want to make the world a better place."

"Like recycling," the child reasoned with five year old clarity. "Every little bit helps," he quoted his school's recycling campaign slogan.

"I see the connection," Paul confirmed thoughtfully.

"So tomorrow I will go with you and I will know what I have to learn when I am at school."

The forethought impressed Paul. "Ok, I get it. Your plan is to observe an agent's job so you can decide what studying will be important. I love that plan. Both your mom and I worked hard at school so we could be good agents."

"Not any agent," Mike contradicted, "your agent job."

"So your plan is to see what Daddy does during the day. What about Mommy? Don't you want to shadow her?"

Mike nixed the suggestion. "Mommy's a girl."

"And she and other girls are in the agency and they work really hard and have great skills."

"I'm a boy," Mike clarified. "I will copy you."

Paul tapped the tiny nose. "You're quite the planner."

Mike abruptly closed his eyes and Paul shifted so that he could slide out from under the small body.

The child had not finished his plea, however, and whispered, "What time should we leave, Daddy?"

Paul sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he weighed the pros and cons of the boy's request. How much harm could happen if he took Mike to the agency? In truth, Mike generally behaved well in public, and because of his shyness probably would not make a commotion. It wouldn't take too much shuffling to block out a period of in which he could actually catch up on paperwork. Rubbing his temples Paul made his decision. It had been a while since he and his youngest son had been able to spend any significant one-on-one time.

"Michael, let's make a deal," he offered.

Mike's blue eyes flew open.

"You cannot stay the whole day, but why don't I take you with me to spend a couple of hours either before lunch or after lunch tomorrow?"

Mike pursed his lips. "Ok. We will eat hamburgers at Jack-in-the-Box," he decided.

"All right, we will hit Jack for lunch. Which time do you like?" Paul questioned. "Morning or afternoon?"

"Afternoon," Mike decided and curled onto his side. "Lunch and afternoon. I have to sleep late 'cause you kept me up talking, Daddy."

Smirking, Paul leaned down to kiss the little cheek and switched off the bedside lamp. "Night, then, Partner."


	9. Whirling Dervish

Whirling Dervish

Though pretty, dainty, and seemingly fragile, Paige's personality and nature sometimes did not match her angelic appearance. Strong willed and stubborn, the little girl refused to accept any notion that she could not participate fully in any activity she liked or could not do exactly as she wanted when her little heart desired.

Furthermore, as both the baby and the only girl of four children, Paige felt it necessary to compete with her siblings as often as she felt it necessary to interact with them.

Thus, her four year old determination often led to frustration when others did not automatically include her or grant her wishes and that frustration usually resulted in trouble. When thwarted she tended to stage a meltdown extraordinaire, leading her parents to liken her to a whirling dervish in a tornado.

Stomping her little foot one morning after being corrected for causing a scene over the breakfast menu, she ordered her father crossly, "Don't call me a derbis any more!"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "You do not speak to your mom or dad disrespectfully in this house at any time. Watch out now or you will find yourself punished. This is warning number one for you. Understand?"

Puffing her lip into a pout to reflect her reluctance at obeying, the little girl nodded.

Her father decided to accept the half-hearted reply. "Anyway, remember that a dervish is actually a very religious person and the whirling part comes because the dervishes spin or dance as part of their worship services. It's really just an expression people use."

Paige folded her arms across her chest at the etymology lesson and Paul couldn't suppress a grin. Even angry his daughter managed to look like a blond, hazel eyed pixie. He continued, "So, when you throw yourself into a temper tantrum like you did this morning and you are spinning around and stomping, you do remind me of an unhappy whirling dervish."

Before she could respond to that observation Charlie called from upstairs, "Paige, come up here right now and get dressed. We're going to be late for Mommy's appointment."

"I don't care," the child mumbled irritably.

"Yes you do," Paul contradicted, tilting her chin upwards to make eye contact. "Head upstairs and get dressed, but take care of your behavior before you get to Mommy. Now you just earned yourself strike two. What will the consequence be if you get another correction, a third one?"

Scowling, Paige answered, "Timeout."

"Correct. Let me caution you that you are going to get into some real trouble if you continue this naughty streak, young lady. You have been angry all morning, from the very second you got out of bed."

Placing his broad hands on both of her shoulders Paul swiveled her in the direction of the steps. "March!"

Surprisingly, she followed that directive silently and without a backwards glance.

Paul watched as she negotiated the first few stairs before turning his attention to cleaning up the remains of breakfast.

Paige's disposition continued to deteriorate while tagging along to Charlie's doctor's appointment, a yearly physical which the FBI demanded for employment. Though Charlie's checkup showed she was in perfect health, she couldn't celebrate because Paige whined and complained the entire doctor's visit.

Even at lunch the little girl sulked throughout, annoyed that her mother refused to take her to the toy store as she had requested.

By the time they returned to Graceland Charlie's patience had dwindled and she put her daughter down for a nap an hour earlier than the normal time.

Reveling in the silence during that naptime Charlie made the most of the free minutes and tended to several of the never ending chores that came with parenting four children.

The afternoon looked promising once Paige woke but then her mood digressed once more. She stayed fairly quiet for the first half hour until Charlie discovered Paige had slipped into Johnny's room and helped herself to the _Barrel of Monkeys_ game he had received from Santa.

Charlie levied a timeout at once and insisted upon the immediate return of Johnny's possession, which she accompanied with a reminder of boundaries and respect for other family members.

Even in timeout Paige proved a handful. Charlie reset the timer three times because Paige failed to follow the strict timeout rule of maintaining complete silence.

Once the boys returned from school Charlie devoted her attention to learning about their day and their activities before supervising homework. Excluded from the homework table and annoyed that she was without a playmate for the homework duration, Paige turned her attention to bothering the boys.

Climbing into a chair next to Dale she fell against him when she decided to rest all of her upper body on the table. He sputtered angrily and pushed her away, eliciting yells of outrage from Paige.

When Charlie responded to the ruckus and identified the problem she ordered Paige away from the table. To convey her displeasure with that decision, Paige threw herself onto the floor and drummed her feet against Mike's chair. The kindergartner took offense. "Mommy, she's making my hand shake and it's making me mess up writing my alphabets!"

Charlie leaned down and pushed Paige's legs away from the chair before once again directing her to timeout.

Dale, Johnny, and Mike tried to resume work while Paige loudly protested that she didn't want to go to timeout. Charlie counted to three, crossed the room, delivered four smacks to her daughter's backside, and carried her upstairs to her room.

The boys eyed each other with awe. Rarely did anyone get spanked at Graceland and they were relieved they were not the recipients.

Upstairs Charlie led her little girl to the center of her bedroom and informed her she was confined to her room for the next half hour.

Socially motivated Paige loved to be in the thick of any gathering so banishment to her room usually served as a great way to modify her behavior.

Then over Paige's protests her mother shut the bedroom door firmly and left her to brood.

Paul returned from the agency just as Charlie descended the stairs.

All three boys immediately scrambled from their seats to greet him and he spent several minutes listening to their elaborate accounts of their school day.

In addition, they gleefully updated Paul on their baby sister's defiant behavior and described the subsequent spanking with macabre detail.

Little Mike added excitedly, "She was the dirling werbish like she was at breakfast, Daddy!"

"He meant whirling derbish," Dale corrected.

"It's dermish," Johnny contradicted. "I think."

"It's dervish, but nevertheless, your sister has used up all of her second chances today," Charlie commented. "See what happens when you continue to misbehave?"

Luckily, something finally registered with Paige during the confinement to her room.

When Charlie opened the bedroom door half an hour after she had left her she found Paige sitting sedately on the floor, her favorite doll nestled in her lap. When the little girl discovered her mother she smiled a greeting.

"Ready to come down and join the family? Daddy got home a few minutes ago and wants to see you. He missed you." Charlie tilted her head to indicate Paul was downstairs.

The little girl jumped up immediately. Clutching her doll with one hand she slid the other into Charlie's hand and pulled Charlie towards the stairs. "Let's go, Mommy. I want to tell Daddy I'm finished being the whirring derbis today."


	10. The Dusk

The Dusk

Paul Briggs awoke to sunshine bathing his face. He lay for several moments without moving, enjoying the feel of the sun's rays and the breakfast aromas wafting their way upstairs and under his bedroom door.

Everyone else must already have started the day.

His dreams had been so vivid and real through the night that he felt he had actually lived them, rather than experienced them.

Paul closed his eyes again and conjured up several of the vibrant scenes and images from his long night. Oh yes, he could envision Mikey Mike as his personal tagalong buddy at the office and John Boy as a first grade heart breaker. Dale definitely would have dually chafed and preened in response to his role as the oldest, while Paige would have reveled in her position as both the baby of the family and as the sole daughter. Then it was certainly conceivable that Charlie, his Charlie, would be such a wise and loving mother. As for his own fatherhood status, it appeared that he had embraced the role and done pretty well as a dad.

He mentally congratulated himself.

Finally Paul yawned and stretched himself into a sitting position, then into a standing one. He walked over to the window and scanned the beach to enjoy the motion of the waves as they slapped at the shoreline.

As he dressed he analyzed his exhaustion from the night before and his refusal to address the onslaught of demands thrust upon him by Mike, Paige, Johnny, and Dale before he crawled into bed.

Paul stretched leisurely before fastening his watch and heading downstairs. Halfway down he paused, though, and leaned on the banister to observe the others before they noticed him.

Johnny stood at the stove wielding a spatula as he spoke animatedly to Paige, busy across from him unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher. Dale lay partially hidden underneath the sink, a couple of wrenches beside him on the floor's tile. Evidently the garbage disposal had belched itself to a stop again and he was repairing it.

Charlie stood with the refrigerator door open and a pad of paper in one hand. She tapped a pen against her chin with the other. Though a running grocery list always stayed posted to the front of the appliance, Chuck always double checked the pantry and refrigerator before hitting the grocery store.

Apparently someone had overturned the apple juice because a half empty jug sat in the middle of the floor where Mike was busily soaking up spilled liquid with several paper towels.

While enjoying the glimpse of Graceland's everyday life Paul indulged in imagining the four children of his night's dreams taking the place of the adults below him. He could envision the spectacle even now, and frankly, the entire dream could have been plausible.

He most assuredly could have embraced that dream family and lived that dream life.

Yes, perhaps parenthood involved more than just raising babies. Maybe successful parenthood emerged from forging and strengthening familial bonds.

Paul smiled and jogged down the stairs to join his family.


End file.
